


Take the lead

by Elysandra



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/M, I guess it's always there, Nikola taking the lead, Tiny Bingo, Unresolved Sexual Tension, but with enough time for the tension to build up again, memories of resolving said tension in the past, this tagging thing isn't working for this story XD, though does it have to build up with those two?, while talking about dancing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-18
Updated: 2020-10-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:55:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27086677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elysandra/pseuds/Elysandra
Summary: Helen is having trouble sleeping, thanks to some rather... 'restless' dreams. Nikola notices.
Relationships: Helen Magnus/Nikola Tesla
Comments: 4
Kudos: 13
Collections: Tiny Bingo





	Take the lead

**Author's Note:**

  * For [tinknevertalks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinknevertalks/gifts).
  * Inspired by [Of Sequins and Scalpels](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26867815) by [tinknevertalks](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tinknevertalks/pseuds/tinknevertalks). 



> So this is basically a fanfic for tinknevertalks' wonderful Strictly Come Dancing!AU "Of Sequins and Scalpels" which I'm very much in love with! This is a normal!AU that brings us back into the 'real' world, inspired by chapter 13 and 14. Definitely go read tink's story first if you haven't yet! This will probably make sense without knowing OSaS, but it would only be half the fun and you'd miss out on an amazing story!^^

~~~

“You look tired,” Nikola commented oh so complimentary as she moved from her armchair to behind her desk. The usual sounds of joking and teasing after a long team meeting slowly faded as the rest of her team poured out of the office, happy to be done. Nikola, on the other hand, showed no inclination to leave her to work in peace as he finally rose from his place on one the other armchairs. Instead, he slowly sauntered across the room toward her - ready to hand out compliments left and right, apparently.

“I haven’t been sleeping well,” she replied curtly, busying herself with the contents of her in tray, hoping against hope that he might get the signal. He did not.

“Nightmares?” he asked instead, sounding worried. Bless him.

“No. Just... a couple of strange dreams recently,” she said, trying to dispel his worries. Judging by his smirk, it worked rather too well.

“Oooh, tell me all about it,” he demanded, coming to a halt next to her desk. The way he leaned against the edge, casual and self-assured, had scenes from her dreams flash through her mind and her pulse quicken, much to her annoyance.

“I will not,” she refused, trying to look busy by signing a couple of requisition forms without really looking at them. They’d already gone through Will’s hands, after all. Couldn’t be too bad, right?

“Come now, Helen,” Nikola pressed further, clearly too intrigued to leave this alone. “They seem to have a detrimental effect on your health, and they say talking about it helps.”

“They are hardly ‘detrimental’, Nikola,” she scoffed, though she _was_ feeling the effects of her recent lack of rest. She hadn’t been sleeping for a couple of days before those dreams started, and at some point sleep became necessary, even for her.

He wasn’t buying it. “Heeleen,” he singsonged in a way that had her roll her eyes - and give in. Despite herself. Maybe he’d leave her alone then, she justified giving in. She refused to acknowledge any other possible reason.

“Fine!” she said curtly. “It’s that bloody show the k- the others have started watching, okay? They persuaded me to join them for an episode the other day and- and I’ve been dreaming about it ever since.”

His eyebrows rose, half surprised, half amused.

“The dancing show?”

“Yes, Nikola, the dancing show,” she repeated in exasperation. “We are dancing, alright?”

She realised her mistake the same moment his eyes lit up. Cursing herself, she turned back to her paperwork rather abruptly, but it was too late. Of course it was.

“ _We_ are dancing, hm?” Nikola repeated, straightening and taking another step toward her. “Tell me, Helen, _what_ are we dancing?”

She refused to look up.

“I’m busy, Nikola,” she pointed out, re-sorting the papers. Her dreams were bad enough, distracting enough. She didn’t need the actual Nikola to start throwing her knowing looks as well. Oh, and his innuendos - there’d be no end to them if he learned...

Another step toward her and he was within reach. His finger trailed the seam of her blouse over the curve of her shoulder.

“Tell me, Helen. _What_ are we dancing?”

She growled, looking for the files she’d been putting off the night before. Like a dog with a bone, wasn’t he? Goosebumps spread across her shoulder, her neck, from his playful touch, and she had to work hard not to let him see her reaction.

“All kinds of dances,” she said, annoyed, distracted. “They change every week, remember?”

She could _hear_ his grin widening, and slapped his hand away when he started playing with her hair. He knew what that did to her, if he started tugging...

“Oh, so we’re dancing in that competition?” he asked, moving around behind her and restarting his games on her other side, completely unperturbed. “I’m the celebrity, I assume?”

“No,” she bit back, not quite able to suppress her reaction to his touch on her shoulder this time. Her left side of the neck had always been the more sensitive side, and this time he trailed the seam along her shoulder instead of across. “ _You_ are a dancer, _I’m_ the celebrity.”

Let him sulk on that for a bit! Dipping her shoulder out from under his touch, she reached for the folders and set the pile down in front of her with a resolute and quite satisfying _thud_.

Nikola chuckled, obviously neither intending to sulk nor to be impressed by her many non-verbal signals. The fact that she’d announced during the meeting that her video conference this afternoon had been cancelled probably didn’t help in convincing him of her being busy.

“Makes sense,” he mused, his hand returning to her shoulder as soon as she sat straight again. “The professional dancers are also the ones teaching, aren’t they? Do you enjoy that? Me teaching you? Correcting you, making you repeat the steps, again, and again...”

She refused to answer, and shook off his hand again instead, opening the first folder. Her eyes had barely found the first line of the report, when Nikola’s fingers found her hair again.

“Which dance did I teach you last night, then?” he asked, and she could see him twirl a lock around his finger from the corner of her eye, a tingling sensation from the featherlight movement spreading across her head in a way that had her want to close her eyes and...

She moved to slap his hand away once more, but he was quicker this time. As her hand came up, his fingers sank into her hair and tugged, just enough to let her feel his firm grip. A surprised moan slipped past her lips before she could stop herself, and her hand dropped down to the desk with another, if quieter thud.

“Which dance, Helen?” Nikola repeated, his voice much closer to her ear as he leaned down, his face close to hers, studying her profile. She really, _really_ needed to put a stop to this. But his hand in her hair seemed to hold her immobile, and his voice demanded an answer.

“The Tango,” she whispered, quite despite herself, and cursed herself for the heat instantly flooding her cheeks. The Tango. They both knew what _that_ meant.

Air brushed across her cheek as Nikola gave a surprised chuckle, so close to her, so...

“The Tango, hm?” he murmured, his lips almost brushing her cheek now, her hot cheek, and his voice was filled with amusement. It grated. It burned. So hot. This was exactly why she hadn’t wanted to tell him about her dreams.

“That’s quite enough,” she tried once more to put an end to this nonsense, this dangerous nonsense. “Nikola, I-”

His grip on her hair tightened, cutting her off easily, and she fell silent at the burning sensation across her scalp as he tugged on her hair, forced her head back against the chair. A tiny movement, yet so much power. So many implications. Shivers ran down her back, almost distracting her from the way this bared her face to him.

“Do I have to be very strict with you?” he whispered against her ear, and his low voice made her moan helplessly. Not his words. Not. His words. “I shouldn’t have to. We both know you can tango, don’t we?”

Oh, yes. They knew, they knew so very well. But in her dream...

“I know the basics,” she whispered, though she shouldn’t have. She shouldn’t have given him anything else. Shouldn’t _be_ giving him anything else. “But the show demands so much more...”

“So I do have to be quite strict, hm?” he murmured knowingly, and his lips did brush against her skin then, and she shivered visibly. Her hands were clenching the edge of her desk, and she bit her lip as Nikola’s free hand covered one of hers. “Do you still enjoy that? When I take the lead?”

Her eyes were closed by then, but she knew he could read the answer on her face. There was no use trying to hide anything anymore.

“Yes,” she whispered, half a word, half a sigh. It was so much more than just an answer, her admission, but now that it was done, it felt kind of freeing. She _had_ been thinking back a lot recently. _Had_ been wondering, even if she didn’t trust herself to let any actions follow her thoughts. But, once again, Nikola had taken the lead. For better or worse.

“You were so good at following my lead back then. Every evening. Do you remember?”

She wanted to nod, but couldn’t, his hold still firm. Wetting her lips, she managed another “Yes” despite her wildly beating heart, her unsteady breath.

Argentina. Nikola and her, on a somewhat indulgent research trip. Away from any worries and demands of a growing Sanctuary Network. Just the two of them, their research, and the quaint little restaurant right next to their hotel.

“Three weeks,” Nikola continued his reminiscence, his thoughts following the same path as hers. “I followed you through the heat by day, and you followed me in the heat of night. And you did it so well.” He smiled against her cheek, and she gave a shaky sigh at the memories his words evoked, so fresh after her recent dreams.

“Maybe it is time we danced again,” he said, and it had her eyes fly open in shock. Less at his proposition, though she hadn’t expected him to be quite this straight forward. This direct. No, more at indeed finding herself in this situation again. At finding herself once more unable to refuse. Unwilling. Eyes wide, she looked at him, still searching for words.

“I...” she tried, but trailed off. He smiled, his hand releasing his hold on her hair and coming to rest at her neck in a rather familiar gesture.

“Yes,” he decided, straightening, leaving her to look up at him in a way that she really wasn’t used to anymore. “Meet me in the library at eleven tonight.”

He smirked.

“Let's see if some proper dance practice can’t cure you of your restless dreams.”

~~~ 

**Author's Note:**

> Fill for my Tiny Bingo prompt "Training of some kind"


End file.
